


The Escort Mission

by hamletmustdie



Category: Invader Zim
Genre: AU, Angst, Dib is an IRKEN, Enemies to Friends, Gen, Kidnapping, Swearing, The Resisty, Violence, ZADF, Zim and Dib are both misunderstood, maybe eventual ZaDr
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-26
Updated: 2019-08-20
Packaged: 2020-07-20 03:34:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19985407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hamletmustdie/pseuds/hamletmustdie
Summary: Determined to prove himself as an Invader worthy of his Tallest's attention, Zim steals a secret mission from one of his fellow Invaders... To escort a young Irken named Dib, assistant to Head Scientist Membrane, to planet Devastis in the wake of trouble with the Resisty. As the two make their way to Devastis, secrets both Irken's are keeping begin catching up to them, as well as a deadly assassin after something one of the two might have.





	1. Tenn's Mission

**Author's Note:**

> OKAY! Dib is an IRKEN AU. Inspiried by THIS INCREDible fanart: https://rinsfw.tumblr.com/post/145988422418/e-escort-mission-%E0%B8%87-o-%E0%B8%A7  
> that I looooove. So look at those designs, keep them in mind, and please enjoy!!!

On the great Resisty ship something terrible had gone awry. A Supreme scientist, in long, grey robes burst through the doors to the captain's quarters. The Resisty’s captain, a short Vortian known as Lard-Nar had been speaking with another Vortian named Cleek, a tall red alien who’s shell-covered horns were twisted cruelly towards his face.

The scientist was nearly out of breath, gasping as he gripped his knees. Sweat beaded at his brow, his eyes wide, terrified. “Sir! The Terrible, Horrible Doomsday Device that we said could never be stolen,”

“ _ Yes?” _ Lard-Nar drew forward, terror looming on him.

“It’s been  _ stolen _ !” The scientist cried, flinging his arms into the air. A collective of despairing cries filled the captain's chambers. The horror of it all! The device, a terrible, apocalyptic prototype to a future weapon to be used someday against the Irken empire in the wrong hands..! But  _ whose _ ?! Lard-Nar whirled towards the windows that outlooked the vastness of space.

“No,” he growled, “this will not sway us! We’ll get it back from whatever filthy creature stole it. Do we know anything about the thieves?”

The scientist had begun to retrieve the papers he’d thrown onto the floor in his panic. “Well, sir, the security drones seem to indicate it was an…  _ Irken soldier _ who took it,”

“ _ Damnit, _ ” Lard-Nar slammed his fist down. The Irken empire, their most terrible enemy, whom they’d sworn to defeat… Somehow, if such a hope were possible. But if the Irken’s had located their ship and not destroyed it on sight, well, that meant at least something, didn’t it? 

Perhaps they thought the Resisty too powerful to face head on now.  _ Or perhaps they think we are not worth the effort.  _ That just made him angrier, and ten times more anxious. But yet, the Irken empire had no qualms with going out of their way to squash nobodies…. In fact, he knew first hand that the Tallest’s enjoyed such activities...  _ Nonetheless! _ Lard-Nar whirled on both Cleek and the scientist. He eyed Cleek; he was tall, his physique broad, square, bulky. An elite soldier.

He had a second secret weapon of his own, one which could not be so easily stolen.  _ Although we’d said that about the Doomsday Device.. _ . “It doesn’t matter who it was, Irken or not. We’ll get it back. Is the tracking device within it still online?”

“For now, yes sir, but the further they go, the harder it will be to track… And soon it’ll go offline entirely…” Lard-Nar nodded at this news. He turned to Cleek. He had at least two heads of height on him. Strapped over his black Resisty uniform, he wore two spears across his back; one was hooked and serrated; the other was long and needle-like. He narrowed his eyes.

“The Irken’s cannot be allowed to use the Terrible, Horrible Doomsday device.  _ Ohh, _ we’ll get it back alright…” In the captain’s quarters, Cleek met his eyes, flashed a horrible sharpened grin. For, as a member of the Resisty for the last several years, he was perhaps their most dangerous soldier - and highest paid bounty hunter, one they’d set on the Irken Empire before. He’d made some successful kills in the past, had gotten the Empire’s attention, and though they didn't know yet who he was, they seemed at least aware that the Resisty was not just some ragtag of fleeing Vortian’s and other aliens disgusted by the Irken’s treatment of literally any species not their own. Though small, Lard-Nar was determined they were some sort of force to be trifled with.

In the depths of space, Lard-Nar allowed the scientist to show him where the device was being tracked, and how much time existed between them and whoever had wrongfully stolen it.

  
  
  
  


_ MONTHS LATER _

  
  


“It had to have been an accident, Zim. Just ask them to assign you something, I’m sure they’ll apologize and get it fixed,” Of course, the Tallest would never apologize for anything, ever, but Skoodge was optimistic. He sat beside Zim in the cafeteria of Planet Conventia and tried to smile encouragingly. Zim’s arms were crossed tightly over his chest. He pouted intensely.

“This is  _ ridiculous, _ ” Zim grumbled. “The second assigning and still they’ve given me no mission! What do they want me to do-  _ rot  _ on this stupid, overexcited planet…?!” 

“Well…” Skoodge considered the facts for a moment. During the First Great Assigning, Zim had been told by the Tallest that he was to prepare for a greater, secretive mission only he could take on. Except the second assigning had just concluded that night, and Zim with his waiting, malfunctioning SIR unit (that Skoodge had offered several times to repair but Zim was determined nothing was wrong with), had been told… Nothing. No secret mission had appeared, nor even a promise of said mission. He’d simply been skipped over, somehow ignored despite his protests. Skoodge had personally just  _ barely _ conquered his own planet, called Blorch, and he'd been reassigned to another, more terrible planet called Squorch. He wondered if the Tallest had some vendetta against him; his assignments were always with the worst guys.  _ Or perhaps they want me to prove myself…!  _ He could only hope.

Still, it disappointed him to see Zim so frustrated. Zim had been among his hatchling mates, around his age although just centimeters smaller than him. The tiny Irken was notoriously difficult, angry, and a ball of roiling energy determined to go above and beyond to prove himself, even if that above and beyond was detrimental to anyone watching. Skoodge had been along many of these endeavors; he’d been on the short end of most of them, in fact. But, despite the injuries which healed too quickly, and the scoldings Zim received from whoever’s propery he’d just destroyed, there was a certain excitement and endearment which sprung into his eyes when it came to any plan to impress the Tallest’s. And Skoodge was a softie. Plus, he thought Zim was pretty funny and weirdly genius. Strange no one else saw it, too.

“You should really go speak to them, Zim. I’ll even help you if you’d like-”

“No! I do not  _ need  _ your help. I’ll go myself.” Still, he didn’t hop from the bench. Zim drummed his fingers against the table; his own tray had been pushed away, untouched. His other claw held his chin, glare fixed on nothing in particular ahead.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes! Stop asking!”

“Well then, what are you waiting for?”

“Why wasn’t Invader  _ Tenn _ assigned anything?” Zim asked suddenly, lowering his voice just a smidge. 

“Huh? Oh, Tenn. Uhh. I dunno.” Skoodge shrugged, looking over his shoulder. Among all the invaders and soldiers in the cafeteria, he could see Larb and Spleen sitting in their own little clique. Skutch was there, too. He and Zim were sitting near the corner with a noticeable gap between them and anyone else at the same table. This was a trend that had kept up since their training in the academy. Skoodge was always vaguely aware that if he was alone, other Irkens would approach him, but if he were with Zim, they’d avoid him like a brain parasite. Well, sometimes that’s what friendship was all about. Sacrifice or whatever. He didn’t mind that much.

“She looked  _ smug,  _ too, like she’d  _ known something… _ ” Zim was hunching forward, claws brought together and eyes narrowed in a familiar way that meant he was cooking up something terrible in that big head of his. “I don’t see her anywhere here…”

“Perhaps she was demoted?” Skoodge offered.

“Demoted! HA! We would’ve heard all about it, you fool! The Tallest would have made a big deal about it, too, just to humiliate her! And yet I’ve heard no such thing… No, it’s something else…”

“Maaaybe…. She’s gonna be on a mission with  _ you _ !” Skoodge grinned, pointing to Zim who shot him a disgusted glare. Skoodge slumped his shoulders, returned to his green and pink dinner of Vortian hot dogs and sporchy pudding. Not his favorite, but he never complained. Zim continued muttering to himself for a long while, putting his head in his hands. Skoodge popped his spoon out of his mouth, frowning.

“Aww, come on, Zim. Don’t seem so sad. I’m sure-” Zim slammed his palms down onto the table. Skoodge jumped, the table rattling as Zim leapt to his feet, standing on the bench.

“ _ That’s it _ ! I will be humiliated  _ no longer! _ I shall demand their greatest mission from the Tallest and they  _ will bestow it upon Zim _ !” His voice, overloud and booming, carried across the cafeteria, silencing the drone of conversation and drawing attention their way. Skoodge smiled nervously, waving at the eyes stuck on them.

“What the  _ hell  _ are you going on about  _ now _ ,  _ Zim?” _ A voice from one of the groups of soldiers asked bitterly. If he’d heard the question Zim gave no notion of it; he scampered off, disappearing into the crowd. He had always been so small. It was so easy to lose him. Skoodge watched him go off, growing increasingly anxious as all eyes remained on him.

“That your friend or something?” An Irken sitting at the far end of the table asked him. Skoodge swallowed.

“Uh. Uh, yeah, yes. He’s- um. He’s my friend. He’s just, you know, uh, excitable.” Despite his flaws, Skoodge couldn’t let the idea go on that Zim had  _ no  _ friends... That would just be terrible..!

“Huh.” The Irken squinted, scooted further away, and whispered something to the Irken’s beside him. Skoodge did his best to ignore the giggling hurled his way.

  
  
  
  


In the corridors outside of the cafeteria, Zim stomped forward. Blind determination made him grit his teeth. He’d been on this stupid planet for three rotations now, and he was already sick of it. All it had to offer was sub-par snacks, grease, strange, brand stamped toys, and quick-to-break touristy toys. Gir was easily impressed by such meaningless garbage, but not  _ Zim _ .

Since he’d quit his own exile, he’d been waiting on Conventia for a mission worthy of such a powerful Irken. It had yet to come, and he was becoming antsy. Now that the other Irken’s had returned from their missions (and after such long months! Zim could’ve completed his  _ own _ invading mission in half the time, he just knew it!), he’d had to watch them take their new missions, one by one, smiling and grinning, laughing at Zim, who’d stood empty handed… He squeezed his fists, muttering to himself.

He had been raised his whole life to be an Invader, had even passed the tests in the academy to become one. Sure, he’d  _ destroyed _ the testing room in a fiery explosion when he’d tried to sharpen his pencil but that deserved well above passing marks, he thought. Even before the final testing, Zim had always been worthy. He was an excellent ship captain, a great marksman. He did, in fact, have the highest score on the shooting range, and the most versatile weapon ability. Hand to hand combat, laser swords, plasma guns, massive explodey-devices, mecha robots, he knew them all very well. He was worthy of commendation, of a great and dangerous mission! How on Irk was he the only one to notice that? Coming down the hall, he found, finally, the doors to the Tallest’s temporary quarters on the planet. Before the doors, two guards stood at ease, spears in hand, faces hidden behind protective helmets. Zim came to a stop before them, hands on his hips.

“You two, step aside! I have some very important business with the Tallest.” 

The two guards gave an in-sync sideways glance his way before looking straight ahead again. The one on the left, taller, with a flatter head, said, “No one is to enter the Tallest’s quarters unless called upon personal-  _ Hey! _ ”

Zim hadn’t been listening, striding forward and throwing his hands against the door to fling them open. Just as he did, both guards rushed forward and brought down two spears in a criss-cross before him.

“You can’t just ignore someone like that! And I said you can’t go in there!”

“Yes, you did say that, but  _ I  _ have important business wi-”

“I don’t  _ care _ what you think you have with the Tallest’s!” The one on the right cried. “He said you couldn’t enter!’

The one of the left squinted down at him. “Hey, wait a minute…. You’re that Zim guy, aren’t you! We  _ specifically _ have orders not to allow you in!” 

“You must have me mistaken with another Zim.” Zim pressed a hand innocently against his chest, then tilted his head. “No, that’s incorrect. I’m the one and only Zim, so, you must’ve heard them wrong. Perhaps they were referring to Invader  _ Sim  _ or  _ Tim  _ or Jim _ or Kim or- _ ”

“Enough! No, I am pretty certain it’s you they warned us against,” With the press of some button, the ends of the spears lit up in a terrible electric blue buzz. Zim startled, stepping back.

“Hey! I’m an Irken invader you know! You can’t just-”

The one of the right opened a pad on his wrist, which flickered up a hologram of Zim. His little ID picture lit up, and beside it, a list of achievements. Or rather, a criminal record. Zim did not see the difference.

“Is this you?” The guard on the right asked. Zim narrowed his eyes at the rotating holographic of himself, taken years ago. He’d been tired that day and incredibly annoyed (he’d forgotten why) and so the picture was a little… Well… He could look better, not that he didn’t look  _ great _ as it was. Zim raised his chin a bit, squinting still.

“... Perhaps,” 

The guard smiled, smug, snapping the wrist pad shut. The hologram disappeared. “Well then, it’s settled. You’ll not be seeing the Tallest’s today, now be off with you! You’re annoying,”

“Yeah,” The other muttered, “ _ Really _ annoying.”

“Enough! Perhaps it would  _ move you more,  _ if I were to remind you that I am an Inva-”

“Your ID says you’re a  _ Food Service Drone. _ ”

Zim threw his hands into the air. “Ohh, this again. I have asked the Tallest time and time again to finally mend that irritating mistake. I am an  _ Invader,  _ I promise you, I simply once dabbled in, ehh,  _ food service work.  _ For the experience, you see.” He waved his hand. The two guards eyed each other. “An Invader’s training is never done, of course, but- HEY, WHAT ON IRK IS THAT?!” Zim pointed wildly to the right. Both guards jerked in the direction he pointed.

“What? What is what, what is it?!” As they looked, Zim rushed forward, slipping past them to grab the door’s handle-

And then he was being jabbed in the side by one of the electric spears. The jolt of electricity threw him back at least seven feet and he skidded back down the hall. 

“Ah- _ ha, _ very clever,” the guard on the right grumbled, coming forward, spear pointed at him. Zim scrambled back, growling. “as if you could’ve fooled us so easily,”

“Well,” The guard on the left had joined him, “he  _ almost _ did,”

“You insolent  _ FOOLS!  _ How  _ dare _ you try to electrocute the almighty  _ ZIM.  _ I’ll get you for this, you know, keeping me away from the Tallest’s… A punishment will be in order for this-”

“Enough! You never tire, you tiny, pestering Irken! Go! Or I’ll jab you again!” The guard had come close enough to get him a second time and Zim’s PAK legs shot out, skittering on the metal floor as they pulled him away. He rushed down the hall, turning far down the corridor until he was out of ear shot. Angry, he kicked at the wall, hard enough to dent the metal and send throbbing pain into his foot. “OUCH!” He hopped backwards, gripping his foot, his PAK legs losing their grasp on the smooth floor. They slid beneath him and he crashed painfully down. 

Grumbling to himself, Zim slowly got back to his feet. He couldn’t believe this! And still with that Service Drone business! He’d gone to every Irken Identification Division on the planet and each one had told him that the ranking couldn't be changed. To do so was illegal. Only a Tallest or Control Brain could change an Irken’s ranking, and so Zim had sent a request to see the Tallest’s about it… And then he’d sent another… And another… And another…. Sixteen during his time on Planet Conventia, and not a single response! He’d finally given up and called the Tallest’s himself, and they’d promised to have it fixed by the morning. That’d been months ago.

He dusted off his uniform, crossing his arms and tapping one foot. Well, what the hell could he do now? He stared at the wall, then up at the ceiling, gaze passing over an air duct, some official Irken slogan in black along the- 

Zim jerked his gaze back to the air duct, activating his PAK legs to raise him up, up until he could peer into it. Steps from either direction of the corrridor made him yank a tool from his PAK, unscrew the cover and pry it carefully away. Scrambling like some insect, he climbed inside, hastily closing the cover behind him just before a group of Irken Invaders passed beneath him, laughing together. He peered down the narrow, metal space. Perhaps he could find the Tallest’s quarters from here? He crawled forward.

The air duct was tight, a bit claustrophobic and stuffy. It was dark, too; his eyes adjusted rapidly to it, and his PAK glowed a soft pink. For once, his small stature came in handy; his antennae barely brushed the ceiling as he crawled.  _ Always _ he found himself in desperate attempts to simply have  _ anyone _ listen to him. What a tragedy. Sure, it was illegal to sneak into the Tallest’s quarters without permission, but they’d yet to deliver him his mission! So this was allowed, wasn’t it?

Twists and turns to Irken bathrooms and janitorial closets led him nowhere, and he was about to give up when a familiar voice made his left antennae perk up. It echoed gently through the air duct…  _ Yess. _ Zim would know that voice anywhere. He paused, listening… Heard the words  _ ‘Tenn’  _ and ‘ _ mission’, ‘vital,’ _ , and began crawling as quietly yet quickly as he could towards it source. As it grew louder, he could see an air duct cover ahead. Pink light shone from it, and drawing nearer, Zim peered through. The room behind it looked cushion-y and comfortable. There was a snack bar adorned with greasy, sugar-coated, powdery snacks just before a long, long window which looked out to nearly all of Conventia’s main city. He saw ships floating by and blinking lights; night had almost fallen and the sky was a purple, red color, like a sickly bruise. The sun was far enough away so that darkness always held Conventia; some hours were simply darker than others. Within the room, amongst the sofas, trays of food and drinks, and a tall, long television, an Invader stood stiff before Tallest’s Red and Purple. Zim grinned, withholding a triumphant laugh. It seemed he was luckier than usual today. He leaned forward as close as he dared to identify the little Irken before them, face nearly pressed into the vent cover.

_ Is that… Invader Tenn? _

Zim saw Red holding out a thin tablet. Invader Tenn took it carefully, gazing at it with awe-struck eyes. Zim hissed in annoyance. Had he been too late to hear the most vital details of this meeting? Outside, Red began to speak.

“All of the information you’ll need will be in there; Devastis’ coordinates, where he should be sent, etc,” Frantically, as they spoke, Zim had a PAK leg silently remove a tablet of his own, bringing it before him. He began tapping away. “In the case of any emergency, say, you come upon Resisty fighters, more coordinates for other planets you might temporarily stay until it’s safe again.”

“Can I not engage the enemy?” Tenn asked.

Red clicked his tongue, shook his head. “Head Scientist Membrane is very, shall we say… Possessive of his assistants,” 

“In a flamboyant sort of way,” Purple added behind him, lounging on a couch with a drink in hand. 

“Yes. He’s rather neglectful, too. And loud. Anyway, no, we’d advise you not to engage with any Resisty fighters, should you come into contact with any. Per his orders. Otherwise we’d love for you to blow ‘em up, buuut… they should be easy to outrun. They’re all using older models of ships anyway…” Red waved a hand, dismissive. Zim watched intently. Tenn was being given a secret, important mission! So that was why she had been skipped; the Tallest’s had felt all the other listening Irken’s (and Zim amongst them!) were too unworthy to hear of it. He narrowed his eyes, jealousy swimming through his blood. His antennae twitched. His jaw felt tight, like his teeth were pressing, pressing to break. For an instant, he considered the chance that Skoodge had been right, that the mission would be shared between them… But then why had Tenn been called alone?  _ This mission was meant for  _ me, Zim thought bitterly. Down below, Tenn gazed up at Red.

“My Tallest’s, forgive me, but this mission seems-”

“Too difficult?” Red’s tone was deadpan. Tenn shook her head quickly.

“No, no, never, my Tallest’s! Just- it’s… Rather brief… Two days’ time… I could easily be done sooner than that.”

“Ah, I see.” Red placed his arms behind his back, “Yes, we considered that, too… Thankfully, you do have another mission, an Invading Mission, if you are to complete this one proficiently,” 

Zim nearly choked on a scoof.  _ Another mission..!? _

“Of course I shall!” Tenn stood taller, eagerly gripping the tablet close to her chest. 

“Yes, yes, now you’re dismissed. Good luck,” Red raised his hand, turning away. Zim gritted his teeth, annoyed.  _ Those stupid guards made me miss the most important part!  _ Oh well, what did it matter? He’d downloaded all her mission info to his own tablet, having caught the signal while the Irken’s below had spoke. It was the best he could do for now. As Tenn went for the door, Zim began to crawl backwards. He’d return to his ship, docked in a hangar somewhere, and set the voot’s coordinates for where ever this…  _ Delivery  _ mission needed him. He’d leave right away, before she could prepare- he wouldn’t even waste time doing that! He’d wing it, and he’d wing it  _ good,  _ and when he arrived on Devastis with whatever package or smeet or whatever it was he was taking safely from the Resisty fighters chase, drop it right at the feet of the Tallest’s. Oh, he couldn’t wait to see the surprise, the shock, the  _ amazement  _ on their faces. They’d be so proud, and rightfully so.

Down below, Tenn had stopped at the doors where she turned, one claw against the handle.

“My Tallest, I am only curious…. But if I may ask, what of that Irken  _ Zim _ ? He was also skipped over this assigning.” Her eyes were narrowed not in curiosity but in the way a listener might await the cruel end of a joke. She was grinning, a slimey, very Irken grin. Zim’s antennae perked up in anticipation. He froze where he’d begun to turn from the opening. Felt his pulse quicken in recognition. He was desperate for any information regarding his future, secret mission. One claw at a time, Zim crawled back to look. He did not notice how Purple snickered, how Tenn’s grin became knowing. How Red made a steeple with his claws, smiling as well. An unsaid inside joke between them all.

He never noticed these things. Or maybe some part of him did, shuffled the knowledge far back so that it could be brushed off as normal.

“Oh, yes, Zim,” Red sighed. 

Purple laughed again. “He has no mission. He’ll be halfway back to Foodcourtia tonight after- hey, what was that sound?” 

In his horror Zim had almost shrieked, clapping a claw over his mouth. In the vent, he peeled back, watching just barely over the ledge as Red, Purple, and Tenn looked about the ceiling or the source of the noise.  _ Back to FoodCourtia?! But- I can’t go back there! There is no mission for me there! How could I ever prove myself as an Invader..!?  _ Memories of vindictive customers and the heavy scent of frying oil came to him in waves, and he felt almost sick.  _ Foodcourtia! What a filthy, stinking hell hole of a planet!  _ Zim gripped his own tablet tight against himself. Sweat beaded at his brow, his eyes wide.  _ This is a mistake..! It must be!  _ Why wasn’t he allowed to prove his prowess to them? A dawning sense of paranoia, anxiety, terror clung to him, making his antennae press against his skull. Why was someone always so willing to stand in his way to greatness?

Below, Red shrugged. “Oh well. Anyway. That is all we need of you, Invader Tenn. You are dismissed.” 

She spun on her heel, chin raised as she pushed open the doors. As she did, Zim scrambled out of the vent, PAK legs tapping a bit too loudly against the narrow metal, through old twists and turns until he found a new vent opening. He kicked the grid cover, hard. It flew into he corridor clattering against the floor as Zim fell down, landing on his feet. Just a Tenn was rounding the corer. She came to an abrupt halt, her own PAK legs extending to retrieve her tablet, hide it within her PAK. Zim froze, then tensed.

“Zim! What on Irk are you doing out here?” She eyed the open vent above them, the vent cover on the floor, narrowing her eyes and drawing forward. “Were you  _ spying _ on me with the Tallest’s? Do you realize I could accuse you of treason if I wanted..!?”

Zim glared at her, crossing his arms over his chest. Knowing all she’d heard made his head swim. “I have no idea what you’re talking about  _ Tenn, _ ” He spat her name as if it were some sort of insult, and after what he’d just heard he supposed he meant it that way. Fury boiled within him, misplaced and terrible. Certainly he’d missed some earlier comment made by her to the Tallest’s encouraging them not to assign him any glory. “I was simply on a walk. I’m to speak with the Tallest’s about my mission very soon. What are  _ you  _ doing, hmm? Sneaking around the Tallest’s quarters are you?”

Tenn’s glare became deadpan as she straightened. Zim had not been around Tenn often in invader training; she was slightly older than him, almost a whole length of antennae taller than him, too. She was high strung, hard working, and dismissive of most of her other fellow Irken’s, save for Larb whom she spoke the most with. Like he and Skoodge, she and Larb were hatchling mates. Still, Zim had sized her up throughout Invader training; she was strong, sure, a good Irken and a dominable soldier but he was Zim. And he was sure she’d conspired against him to the Tallest… Or something.

Tenn’s broke broke into a thin smile. “Yeah. I’m sure whatever they’ve prepared for you, Zim, it’ll be what your deserve-”

“Yes it will!” Zim shouted, leaning forward, fists tight. She didn’t even blink. His hand was shaking when he pointed at her. “And when I receive my mission you’ll see I could’ve done it all along, perhaps better than you especially could have! So much better! And you’ll rue the day you’d ever  _ dare  _ to insult the almighty  _ Zim- _ ”

“I haven’t even insulted you yet, Zim,” she said, one hand on her hip. “Good grief, you never stop, do you? Now will you move? I don’t want to be too late for the cafeteria before they close.”

“Oh,” Zim blinked, beginning to step aside before he recalled who he was talking to, “No! I don’t care! You think you know so much, don’t you-”

“You  _ were _ spying on me, weren’t you, you wretched little parasite!” She drew forward, glaring. 

“Perhaps I was! Perhaps I wasn’t, but you’ll never know!” But by now Tenn had come close enough to grip a fistful of his uniform, jerking him backwards. He snarled, furious.

“What did you hear, you  _ pest _ ?” 

“Zim heard nothing! I know nothing of whatever you’re-” She shook him, hard, and Zim brought up his claws to shove her away. Her grip was ironclad as she leaned forward, teeth bared.

“If you get in my way, Zim, I swear to  _ Irk. _ I did not conquer Meekrob to be bothered by the likes of  _ you _ , a false Invader without a mission!”

“And yet the Meekrob still provide the Resisty with plenty of weapons! They’re quite a splinter in the empire’s side, I’ve heard, so much work for the Tallest’s to clean up after. A fine job conquering them you did!”

“Shut up!” She hissed, PAK legs flying out to raise him higher above the ground.

“Get your filthy claws off of me!”

“I’ve no qualms with killing you,  _ Zim. _ But I’d say you’re less of a pest in my future now, given your circumstances,” She’d begun to smile. Zim nearly sputtered.

“And what does _that_ mean?!” Althoug he _knew_ , he knew what they supposedly meant to do. Tenn grinned, revealing a row of glinting, grey teeth. Zim’s face felt hot. “Do you _really_ think I’d allow ANYONE to prevent me from-”

“Hey, what’s the trouble over here?” One of the guards had come down the hall, hearing the commotion. Tenn dropped Zim, struggling wildly in her grip. He struck the floor with a painful thud. 

“There’s no trouble,” She said, deadpan, PAK legs retreating to drop her cleanly to the floor on her feet. Zim growled, teeth bared as she turned from him, striding down the hall towards the cafeteria. He leapt to his feet.

“Fine! Flee since you’re so intimidated by me, ZIM! But I’ll prove it to you! I’ll prove it and you’ll  _ regret  _ ever having offending the almighty-” But by now, she’d disappeared. Zim’s voice, irritating and determined echoed off the empty hall walls and found no one. His teeth were gritted, his fists balled tight. He was shaking. Truly this was not how he’d intended to spend the night. ‘ _ Oh yes, Zim... He has no mission.’  _ He hadn’t realized his antenna had begun to droop until they brushed his shoulders.

Perhaps they hadn’t meant it? But then, why had it been said? Zim’s mind fluttered with excuses, explanations, _anything._ There was nothing to do on that Irk forsaken planet, nothing! He couldn’t stand it! And yet it seemed his Tallest intended on sending him back to Foodcourtia, where Sizz-Lorr ruled and made him wear that ridiculous mascot outfit filled with hot oil. He couldn’t do that again, not when his potential as an Invader was so undeniable! Clearly their judgments were clouded! Yes, that was it! They simply didn’t know of his prowess, his capabilities, despite the proof of it already from Impending Doom One! He would show them, yes, have them see him as he really was. They’d finally give him the missions he deserved. _After I’ve completed this first one, of course…._ Zim went to remove his tablet with Tenn’s mission downloaded onto it when the announcing system suddenly clicked on above. “Attention all Invaders! Would Inva- I mean, _Irken_ _Zim_ please report to the Almighty Tallest’s _post haste!_ I repeat, _Irken_ _Zim_ please report to the Almighty Tallest’s _post haste_! Thank you!” 

Zim’s atennae shot up. Dread mixed with confidence swirled through his middle. He stared up at the ceiling, chewing at his bottom lip. Should he go..? It would be wrong not to report as he was being called, but if they tried to return him to Foodcourtia now, he’d never complete Tenn’s mission before her.

_ I’ll simply have to convince them I must not be exiled again.  _ The first time had been a fluke anyway, one he had, however, accepted. He was a soldier, he could take discipline, whether he deserved it, per se, or not. But a second time? He had to speak up for himself, and that was a skill Zim knew well. He was great with words. He straightened, shoulders thrown back, and raised his chin, looking quite serious. He lifted his communication device as he walked back towards the Tallest’s quarters.

“Gir!” He hissed into the mic. Several beats and his SIR responded.

“Hi!” He had spent a year so far with Gir on Planet Conventia. He was still unsure as to how much help the SIR would truly be, although he’d yet had the chance to really use him for what he was meant to do. “Prepare the Voot for launch. We shall be leaving for our long awaited mission tonight, Gir.” 

“Yaaaaay!!” Gir cried shrilly on the other line. “What are we gonna do? We gonna get snacks? We gonna get  _ snacks _ , Master!?” Zim cringed; he’d yet to become accustomed to Gir’s terribly pitched voice. He likely never would.

“When we are finished, we shall have more snacks than you can eat, Gir! Now prepare the ship!” Zim disconnected before Gir could finish replying on the other side, something loud and incomprehensible and meaningless anyway. He marched for the Tallest’s quarters, confidence restored.

  
  



	2. Trouble on Conventia

_ON RESEARCH PLANET NINE_

As he threw the meager bag of belongings onto his desk, Dib tugged at it’s zipper and dug inside. Amongst his field notes, his papers, books, anything and everything to keep him company on a short, two day flight, buried far at the bottom was something the shape of a smeet’s toy. 

“Dib! Hurry up now! I have things to attend to!”

Dib glanced over his shoulder. “Yeah, I’m coming!” He’d worked hard to keep the object out of view as he pulled it gingerly, halfway out. It was wrapped in cloth several times around, and he unpeeled it slightly to insure the object, precious and delicate, looked as fine as it had the night before, when he’d swiped it from Head Scientist’s Membrane’s lab… Even the biting anxiety he’d felt then remained, just a sharp as when he’d done it. 

The other scientists didn’t know what it was; even Membrane seemed convinced it was useless, an unfinished failure. But Dib had suspicions… He’d tried discussing them with the head scientist but had been cut off or ignored every time. It was round and fit just a little too big in the palm of his hand. A band wrapped around it, covered in Vortian text. It looked almost like a simple, heavy, metal ball. It reflected a distorted, stretched image of himself in it’s surface.

What Membrane didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him, would it? _But he’d be furious if he learned…_ The item was in fine condition, he realized with anxious relief. He’d packed tools as well to work on it. Dib crammed it back into his bag when he heard his name for the third time, slinging his bag over his shoulder hastily. It didn’t matter, because he’d be at Devatis by the day after next anyway. And soon after that, Head Scientist Membrane wouldn’t see him as such a troublesome apprentice anymore - Dib would have been proven right all along.

He darted out of the apprentice’s quarters and skittered down the labs long corridor. The Research Planet was a maze if one didn’t know where they were going, and Dib had practically been raised here. He came, finally, to a wide, spansive room, dark with only one light shining down on the head scientist. He skidded to a stop behind a figure bent over a table at work. “I’m sorry, sir, I was-”

“Do you have all of your field notes?”

“Yes, sir!”

“Your books, your clothes, your tools, that little Vortian toy you’ve had since you were a smeet?”

“Yes si- wait, I haven’t had that toy for decades now!” Dib cried. Membrane, bent over the work table, finally turned to face him.

“Ahh, yes, I am only _teasing_ you,” He patted the top of his head, a condescending gesture Dib couldn’t hate entirely. He leaned down, examining Dib. Membrane was quite tall, the tallest scientist in the lab, and although that made him Head Scientist, Dib felt his smarts would’ve gotten him that title anyway; he was the brightest scientist Irk had to offer, eccentric, and just the right amount of cruel to please the Tallest’s - while not being so reckless as to be terrifying to work with. “Are these all in order here?” He asked, referring to the blue goggles around Dib’s head. 

“Yes sir. And I have another pair in my bag.” 

“Very good. I believe I sent orders for you to be to kept out of combat, but remember, if you are attacked, there is no shame in hiding,”

“I wouldn’t _hide_ from an enemy, sir,” Dib said, furrowing his brow. “I have _training_ you know,” He’d trained the same allotted years as most other Irken’s, although when the decision was to be made if he’d become an Invader, a hardened soldier, a scientist, or anything else, he’d ran for the scientist option. He could fight and he knew he could’ve been a great Invader, too, but research, lab work, all of that just intrigued him so much more. And the empire was considering sending scientists out with Invader’s to probe and research alien planets before they were conquered, to better prepare both the empire and the Invaders for what awaited them. Dib was eagerly awaiting the day that decision was made; to be held to such high glory as an Invader was a title Dib longed for.

“Of _course_ you do, Dib. But, you must be careful. You can’t afford for them to become cracked while others are around. Now,” Membrane rose up. Dib had to crane his neck a bit to see the Irken’s eyes- or rather, the bright sheen of his round goggles. Membrane was tall; just a few inches short of being a Tallest himself. This fact had him offered more political positions on Irk itself, but he always turned them down. He spent so much time in the labs, nearly all of it, and hated to be dragged away from it. Usually, he found ways of having other’s appearing in his place for meetings and such. Dib had done this before, though Membrane preferred to send out his hatchling mate and fellow assistant Gaz. “Where is our little escorting friend? Ah, I believe the time she might appear shall be coming soon,”

“When will you be leaving, sir?”

“Oh, tonight. I’ll see the lab’s final experiments taken away someplace safe, to ensure everything’s where it should be before the lockdown.” He gazed about the room. The lab felt a bit eerie so empty, although Dib had spent very late hours here with the head scientist and Gaz, watching over his shoulder as he worked, running back and forth with tools, vials, and droppers for him. The lockdown and subsequent evacuations had been called in the wake of Resisty trouble on the planets moon, where explosive and massive weapon prototypes were experimented with. Several things had been stolen and plenty of Irken machinery had been vandalized. But that wasn’t the reason for an entire evacuation; one of the head scientists from the labs had been murdered amongst his assistants. The Tallest’s had ordered the evacuation of Research 9’s most important equipment, as well as of all it’s brightest occupants. In the meantime, it would briefly become a battleground for the Resisty fighters bound to appear. “But, in the meantime, bring me that there alien splicer from the cabinet! There is still work to be done while we wait!” 

“Yes sir!” Dib was not so fond of weapon experimenting; he preferred research and experiments on other lifeforms, creatures from vague, unknown planets. But Membrane had much to offer him in forms of knowledge. He rushed off.

* * *

  


_PLANET CONVENTIA_

When the Tallest’s had encountered Zim in the first Great Assigning, they’d be shocked. Exiled to Foodcourtia, they’d hoped the traffic there would keep him infinitely busy. His determination to please his higher ups would translate to appeasing his fry-lord manager, Sizz-Lorr. Sending Zim to Foodcourtia had been like sending off a feral, rapid pet to be exterminated - except without the nostalgic sadness of what once was. And also they were, unfortunately, not yet allowed to execute Zim. He’d yet to do anything heinous enough for those kinds of measures, although he’d gotten close on many occassions. Zim was never once helpful, never once a great Irken. His potential as a scientist, as an Invader, as a soldier, as anything was squashed by his unchecked ego and mania. Red and Purple had been greatly relieved and glad to be done with him… Until he’d come back. 

They’d decided to try and use his presence for entertainment; they gave him a ruined SIR unit and random janitorial tasks around Conventia with the promise of something greater awaiting him. Of course, there’d been no such thing and they’d hope he’d either fuck up so badly he’d, 1) get himself killed, or 2) get himself exiled by someone else. Neither happened (as with Zim, nothing seemed to run in _anyone’s_ favor). As the other Invader’s had completed their missions and the canon sweeps had all been completed, the Second Great Assigning was held. Nearly a quarter through the event, Zim had re-appeared with a mop and his SIR unit, who kept running circles around Red and Purple’s skirts and tried to climb under them. They’d done what they could to ignore him, but it was clear he couldn’t just be shoved aside. 

That had been the night before. Red had known what needed to be done now.

“You know, we should just keep a slurpee machine in here,” Purple was saying from his couch, spinning his drink in his hand, the straw whirling. “It’d be so much easier and we wouldn’t have to wait for Bob to show up every time. He takes forever.”

“Mm.” Red wasn’t really listening. A knock came to the door and he called for whoever to enter.

“My Tallest,” A guard stepped into the room, standing straight in salute. “The Irken Zim is here as you requested. Will that be all?”

“Have at least eight guards at the ready outside. I’ll call for you when we need you,” 

“Of course, my Tallest.”

“Only eight guards?” Purple looked wary as the guard stepped out of the room. “It could take more than that with _him_ ,”

“We’ll see,” said Red, as the door opened a second time. Chest out, shoulders back, former Invader Zim strode proudly into the room, saluting stiffly. It seemed when he made his presence known the environment seemed to darken, foreboding some stupid, pitiful disaster. Shadows drew forward in anticipation. The doors closed with a clang behind him. Purple sipped at his drink loudly, the cup nearly empty.

“I’ve come as you’ve asked of me, my Tallest,” Zim was smiling, his confidence overbright. Red almost scowled. Purple seemed to barely notice him, watching him through half mast eyes.

“Oh, yeah, we called for Zim. That was quick.”

“Yes, well, I happened to be just outside,” Zim said and Purple raised a brow in suspicion. “What is it you’d have of me, my Tallest?” 

Red drew forward, feigning a polite smile. “We understand you’ve been awaiting your mission, Zim.”

“Oh yes,” Zim grinned, looking devious. “My secret mission. I am eager to please both of you, as you can imagine,”

“Of course, of course,” Red glanced at Purple, who rolled his eyes. _This should be good._ “To be honest with you Zim, we’ve decided it would best for your Invader training if you returned to Foodcourtia. Forever.” He expected a scene. Disbelief and shock. He folded his hands behind his back; he loved a good scene.

Instead, Zim just smiled back. “Yess, I thought you’d say that,”

“Did you now?” Purple blinked at him. “Do you hear that Red? He knew we were gonna send him back to Foodcourtia,” Red stared in bored surprise. How like Zim to come with unexpected news. Of course, he’d had anticipated this as well.

“Yes sirs, but I’ve come with an even _better_ idea. Allow me to explain,” A PAK leg was extending to bring him a tablet when Red interrupted.

“No, I think what we’ve decided would be best, Zim. You are the only invader with any experience uh, frying… Things. Doesn’t that make you proud? And to continue your training alone, it would be-”

“Yes, but that is hardly a mission, my Tallest!” Zim spoke very matter of factly, his tablet in his hands now, “I have been awaiting the secret mission you’ve promised me for over a year now, but I understand you need me to prove my abilities to you first. Which I understand! Only the best should be given such vital, secret missions, and if you must know my prowess, then so be it-”

“ _What_ prowess, Zim? What could you possibly prove to us now, after everything?” Red demanded impatiently.

“Thankfully I’ve prepared an entire presentation-”

“No, no Zim, we are not interested in hearing it. You _quit_ your exile without permission. You realize that’s not allowed, right?” 

“Just tell him he’s being exiled again!” Purple called from behind Red. Zim stared at both of them in wide-eyed horror; it was almost comical. Any mention of well deserved punishment and Zim looked the face of an innocent Irken - sort of. He was just always so _surprised._

“You can’t be considering exiling me _again_..!? I haven’t even done anything this time! And last time had been stupid, I did well in Impending Doom one! I-”

“You’ve been putting alien slime in the sporchy pudding for the last three months here!” Purple cried. “ _Slime!_ Do you know how many Irken’s have gotten sick? _Do you?!_ ”

Red ignored Purple, raising his hand, speaking lowly, “It’s true you’ve been quite the menace on Conventia since you came here, Zim, but I might chalk that up to a fault of our own for keeping you here so long,”

“Then let me _show you-”_

Red raised a hand. “I’ll have you remember, _Zim_ , that your exile has yet to be officially called off, by _us,_ ” he placed a claw against his chest, glaring at him, “you aren't being exiled _again,_ you are simply being returned to where you belong,”

“But, my Tallest,” Zim drew his tablet close to himself as though for defense. “You two didn’t expect me to miss out on a great assigning, did you? Don’t you understand how eager, how willing I am to serve the empire? Why would I have sat back while-”

“So what!” said Purple plainly, “Those were your orders. You weren’t invited,”

Zim blinked. One boot toyed the carpet. “ _Orrr_ my invitation just got lost in the mail?”   


“No, Zim. You. Weren’t. _Invited._ ” Red had said it before at the first Great Assigning, he’d said it plenty more times since, and _Irk_ was he sick of it, of Zim, of repeating such basic information. Any other Irken would follow obediently. Zim’s obedience came with deadly fine print. “Regardless, we have guards to take you back, so you can go with pride, Zim, like the Irken soldier you _sort of_ are, or you can-”

“But that’s just it! Zim is not a soldier, I’m an Invader! This isn’t a mission, this is just- just exile!”

He threw out his arms in exasperation, shouting, “Yes, Zim, that’s what it’s been all along! How moronic are you?! Guards!” The doors behind Zim flew open and he whirled, horrified. “Please, take him away. We’ve had enough,” Two of the guards drew forward, grabbed Zim by his thin arms. Zim struggled, looking furious, hurt, and betrayed all at once. 

“Return him to Foodcourtia,” demanded Red, “and ensure he remains there. Zim, you’re lucky this isn’t a trial. Otherwise things might not be going so well for you,” He turned away, the matter finally finished with. Oh, to send Zim out with a tracking collar that would blow him up if he even tried to step away from the grill… Perhaps Red would have that commissioned and sent to Sizz-Lorr before Zim arrived. _Or let him try to escape again and allow the Control Brains to decide his fate then…_ Yes, that was a clever idea as well, and no doubt Zim would successfully escape a third time. By then the Control Brains would determine his functionality as an Irken obsolete. A thorn in their sides. Perhaps they’d deem him _defective._ Red had had his suspicions since they were young, but to accuse another Irken of such a thing was heavy stuff.

Meanwhile, Zim squirmed out of their grasp, rushing forwards. Purple watched faintly interested from the couch, still sucking on his drink loudly.

“But My tallest this can’t-“

Red spun, teeth bared, “Enough, Zim!” His voice rose steadily as he drew forward, pointing to Zim, who shrank. “You’ve always thought this was some little game, haven’t you? You have been nothing but trouble for the empire since you were born! You’re a _parasite!_ You are not an Invader, you have never truly _been_ an Invader, and you never _will be an Invader!_ And would you _QUIT BEING SO LOUD WITH THAT DRINK!”_ Red whirled to Purple and slapped the drink out of his hands. It flew, rolling over and leaking what meager contents remained.

“Hey,” Purple whined, “I wasn’t done with that yet!”

“Now take him out of my- where’d he go?” Red stopped short; the guards glanced around, confused. 

The tiny Irken was nowhere to be seen.

  
  
  


Already far down the hall, Zim was scrambling as fast he could in the direction of the hangars. Just his luck to have such a simple request shot down with an arrest! _Geez,_ the Tallest’s could be so _blind!_ Red’s words might’ve wracked his brain had Zim not been so distracted with escape. One PAK leg flew out and held out a communication device. 

“Gir! Gir, answer me!” 

_“Yeeeesss?_ ” Gir asked a moment later on the other end. Zim opened his mouth but a red light flashed above him, the intercom springing on. 

_“Attention all IRKENS. The Irken_ Zim _is to be apprehended on sight. I repeat, the Ikren-_ ”

_“Hey! That’s you Master!”_

“Prepare the ship for take off, right now! Start the engine and make sure we aren't docked! We’re leaving! Do you understand me!”

“No!” Gir cried, and hung up. Zim cursed and continued down the hall. The severity of the situation raged within him; how big were the consequences of his actions right now? How terrible would it be for him if he climbed into his voot and went on Tenn’s mission _right now_? He wasn’t sure, and so he tossed that concern out the window- for the time being, at least. He came to the hallway where the cafeteria doors were. At the last second, the doors flew open and Zim crashed splat into them, crushing his face. 

“Oh-! Oh, hey there Zim!” Skoodge appeared on the other side of the door, bending forward to help Zim up. “I’m so sorry, had I known you’d be running from the authorities I might’ve tried to open the door slower. You alright?” 

Zim gripped his face between two gloved claws as he allowed Skoodge to lift him up. 

“ _NO,_ I am not _alright_! Now get outta my way!” Just as he was trying to squirm away from Skoodge and dart down the hall, Tenn stepped out of the cafeteria, too. Upon seeing him, she grinned a slimey grin, placed hands on her hips. Zim nearly snarled in irritation.

“How’s that secret mission going Zim?” She asked.

“You _shut up_! You planned all of this, didn’t you?” One hand still held his face, the other pointed wildly at her.

“Planned it? Pff, no, but I wish I’d been that-”

“ _DIDN’T YOU?!”_

“I said _NO, dumbass!”_

“H-hey now,” Skoodge spoke between them, “let’s-”

“ _There he is!_ ” A voice at the end of the hall behind Tenn and Skoodge made them jump, and Zim startled, stumbling backwards. He glared at Tenn as he got to his feet, a wicked grin spreading into his mouth.

“Whatever! Good luck on _your_ mission, Tenn! That is, if I don’t complete it before you!” Zim shouted as he ran. Tenn’s shit-eating grin quickly withered.

“ _What did you say_ ?” She shouted shrilly after him, and finally a spike of determination, of some sort of triumphant flooded through him. Yes, he could do this, he could flee, because he needed to prove Tenn wrong, he needed to prove them all wrong, he was _Zim_ for Irk’s sake! He didn't realize he was laughing, nearly out of breath as he ran. A sort of panic switch had flipped on within him. He threw open the doors to one of Conventia’s main halls, stumbling into the front entrance of the building. He dug his heels into the concrete and came to a stop. What little of the sun had been out was now nearly gone, and the sky was a deep, syrupy purple and black. The cool night air struck his skin. His blood was thrumming wildly within in him, his breath came in quick gasps. As a soldier, moments of escape weren’t new to him. It’d be a lie if he said he didn’t feel some sort of joyful rush right now, but amongst his excitement, terror was mixed in there, too. He couldn’t let them drag him back to Foodcourtia. Not when he had so much to prove to them, not when he was so unworthy of such a punishment. Zim ran forward, shoving aliens walking home or to their duties aside as he found a crowd deeper down the street, towards the heart of the city. In the air, ships flew to and fro, and not far ahead, the hangars loomed, tall and busy with air traffic. Zim grinned and ran faster. Behind him, a shrill voice rang out.

_“ZIIIM! GET BACK HERE OR I’LL CLAW YOUR GUTS OUT!”_ Zim threw a look over his shoulder in time to see Tenn, scrambling across the crowd on PAK legs, eyes furious and mouth twisted into a snarl. She was faster than the bumbling Irken guards in their heavy armor and spears, and PAK legs only made her quicker. Zim wound through the crowd, ducking and sliding beneath taller and wider aliens; he would never admit it but perhaps his minuscule height _did_ occasionally come in handy. He was rushing towards an alleyway when a sudden bright, green blast erupted at his left, just beside his foot. He thrown off balance instantly, his own PAK legs activating on extinct to hurl him just a few steps away. He kept running, but spun to see behind him as he did; Tenn, held above the crowd still clicked towards him, plasma gun in her right hand. She aimed it again and Zim doged the next, lethal shot. 

The alleyway ahead was blocked with random, massive garbage bins and abandoned trash. A ruined cruiser was gathering dust in the middle of their path, a tiny home for alien vermin. Mentally, Zim went over everything he knew about Tenn, in regards to combat. Although they might not have trained together, he knew she’d even outdone Larb in the academy. She’d been one of the last to conquer her planet, but he did have to admit that Meekrob had been a special case. They collaborated with the Resisty, and were notoriously clever. She’d been given her mission due to her superior use of disguises and espionage, plus her abilities on the battlefield. In Impending Doom One, before it’s sudden end, she hadn’t piloted any mechas or ships. She’d been on the ground. As Zim considered this fact, still running, about to hurl himself over the crashed ship ahead, a PAK leg wrapped expertly around his right leg. Not a split second later he was being wrenched back, flying through the air before he struck a wall, hard. 

His own PAK legs scratched against hers, and an end caught on her cheek, tearing the skin. A long line of magenta blood slipped from it and caught on her top lip as one of his PAK legs found a plasma gun to aim at her, just as she aimed hers. His head was spinning from the earlier impact; rapidly, his vision sharpened on her. They stood that way, gasping, her just a foot lower than him as she held him up against the wall, he still grappling with her PAK legs; their guns aimed at each other’s faces. 

“You…. Annoying little… _Fuck,_ ” she hissed between breaths.

“You can’t kill me,” Zim growled, “you’ll lose… Your Invader status, and… your mission…!” 

“You can’t kill me _either,_ ” he considered telling her he wasn’t an Invader, he was a food service drone, but he kept that back considered it was less of a comeback and more of a further insult to himself. 

“If you take this mission, the Tallest’s will be furious. They’ll send people after you. _I’ll_ go after you, Zim. Turn yourself in, and it’ll go easier-”

“Never! You put it in the Tallest’s head to keep me from my secret mission! Who’s to say it wasn’t _you_ who stole this from me in the first place!”

“I’ve stolen _nothing_ from you, Zim! Don’t you understand, you never had a secret mission! The Tallest were just keeping you here so they didn’t have to worry about you fucking up whatever mission they _could_ give you!” Zim might’ve shouted back, but from the left something hard and squeaky struck Tenn’s head, and it surprised her enough to make her loosen her grasp, stumble just a step to the side. Zim took the moment to unwind himself from her PAK legs and spring away, darting towards the crashed cruiser where, atop it, stood-

“ _Must defend my Master!_ ” Gir’s eyes were bright red as he threw an arm back, preparing to hurdle not an explosive or anything truly useful, but another alien rat-thing. The one he’d just thrown at Tenn moments ago skittered off, hissing.

“Gir! What are you doing here!” Zim hissed, grabbing Gir by the middle, hooking him under his arm as he leapt over the crashed ship. His boots struck the hard ground on the other side and he ran. Gir’s eyes faded back to cyan and he looked up at Zim from where he hung limp. 

“Look what I found! He’s dirty!” Gir held up in one hand his alien vermin, a rat like creature with purple fur and big, bulging yellow eyes. Perhaps he’d unintentionally sent out a distress signal to Gir? Or maybe Gir had gotten bored and simply come to find him. _Just in time, then._ Behind him, Tenn was scrambling after him again, shooting, but he’d gotten enough of a head start as he threw himself out of the alleyway and back into another crowd. The click of PAK legs faded quickly, and the hangar was looking closer. Activating his own PAK legs, Gir still hooked beneath him, Zim ran faster.

  


His ship was haphazardly parked between two much larger cruisers of the same model. Zim didn’t have the monies or proper identification to receive new, _better_ upgrades to his cruiser, something he’d been in dire need of since he’d technically _stolen_ his ship from Foodcourtia when he’d left. The windshield flew up on his voice command, and he let go of Gir who crawled into the pilots seat. Zim hoped in after him, letting the windshield shut loudly. 

“Alright, good work Gir!” The ship was already alive and running, as he’d asked of SIR unit. He worked frantically at the dashboard, opening a map and radar. The lights blinked and shone brightly, reflecting in his eyes as his chest rose and fell quickly. “We finally have our mission now,” 

“Yaaay!” Gir chimed beside him, clapping. He put the alien-rat into the compartment in his head, smiling gleefully.

“Computer! Download mission information from my tablet!” He commanded. The computer obliged, the words _DOWNLOADING_ appearing on the windshield until it completed. “What are our coordinates?”

“ _Research Planet Nine, sir,_ ”

“And the package, what package, what are we escorting?” 

“ _Package?_ ” The computer repeated dully. “ _Not a package, sir. Irken Assistant to Head Scientist Membrane, Dib, is to be escorted to Planet Devastis.”_

“Dib? Who is this ‘ _Dib’_?” Zim leaned forward suspiciously.

“Master, your friends are here!” Gir cried behind him. Zim jerked his head around in time to see Tenn through the windshield, clambering over other cruisers, having spotted him. A split second later, a group of guards, more than before had appeared, armed and angry, shouting. Within the ship, he could just barely hear the commotion of it. Overhead, within the hangar, an alarm had begun to blare. Lights were flashing. The hangar’s entrance, a gaping mouth that looked out into space above, was beginning to close. Zim hissed in panic. Did they really care to appehend him _that_ badly..!?

“Nevermind! Take us to the Dib now!” The coordinates were set instantly and Zim gripped the ships toggles urging it forward. It crashed first into the parking marker in front of him, jerking them about, before it backed wildly up, wavering into the air. He barely missed another leaving ship as he rushed for the exit. He thought, distantly, of when he’d fled Foodcourtia for the first time; Sizz-Lorr had, of course, been furious, sent several ships after him. He’d nearly not made it, just as he did now. Narrowly, as the exit ahead grew smaller and smaller, Zim leaned forward, gritting his teeth. Behind him, Gir was riled up, laughing and screaming all at once, gripping his arm and shaking him wildly. _Come on, COME ON!_ Couldn’t the damn ship go any faster?! If they weren’t quick enough, they’d crash, land back in the arms of the guards and Tenn, and then he’d-

They shot through the exit, just as it grew an inch too small for them, hurtling them ahead into the atmosphere. Zim laughed, half crazed, and Gir shrieked, perhaps unaware they’d made it, screaming just to scream. On the radar, Research Planet Nine blinked, hardly two hours ahead of them.

  
  
  



	3. The Dib

The long, purple and black halls on Research Planet Nine’s main weapon facility were quiet and abandoned. Most of the other scientists had left, and as the hours ticked by, the facility emptied until hardly a lifeform remained. It was silent... Except for the occasional scribbling of notes from Dib who watched what Scientist Membrane did closely over the ruined PAK of a long dead, defective Irken. This was Membrane’s main work; discovering the inner workings of a defective PAK, what corrupted the data, where that corruption  _ came _ from, and how it might be either reversed or taken out of the collective all across the board. 

“It’s rather late, isn’t it?” Membrane said aloud, perhaps to himself. Dib nearly startled; there’d not been a word from either of them in what felt like hours. He looked up from his notes. Truthfully, he’d gotten pretty engrossed in what he’d been writing. Defective Irkens fascinated him; the Empire was so efficient, so perfect. Canon sweeps were done quickly, wiping out life on an entire planet in sometimes as short as a month. Dib had heard it could be done even faster. Research done on Planet Nine was constant and data was near always being fed back to the Tallest’s, to the Massive, and to the Control Brains where it was downloaded and used to their advantage. Irken soldiers worked like a hivemind. Their weapons were of mass destruction. They were a force to be reckoned with. Yet somehow, cracks still appeared in the empire’s impeccable design. An Irken with a corrupted data PAK might experience various ailments ranging from severe emotional and mental issues, to physical ones as well; blindness, hearing impairments, missing limbs, or an unreliable PAK unable to heal injuries properly. Although rare, their existence could be devastating, for the empire worked almost as one, and was certainly unprepared to deal with  _ any _ deviation from the norm. All it took was one thing to fall out of line for a mission to fall apart. Destruction caused centuries ago by defective Irkens had been what had urged Tallest Miyuki, almost a century ago to put time into Defective Research.

“Should I bring the communications back online?” asked Dib. For a moment Membrane thought, then shook his head.

“In a moment. Let’s finish up here,” he said, setting aside his tools to examine the segmented, open PAK before him. It’s lights shone bright purple. Dib stood on his tip toes and leaned forward a bit to peer down at it. Within were millions of tiny, tiny wires. Most of them were so miniscule, they had to be seen through microscope goggles and fancy lens’. Little chips of information were wedged into the segmented walls that separated the PAK into three parts; motor functions, information, and processing. These chips were loaded with information at the hatching of every Irken. That information contained the whole of Irken knowledge - also known as the collective.

“Um,” Dib looked between the PAK and Membrane. When he worked, the head scientist sometimes became very quiet and all Dib could do was try to keep up with whatever it was he was doing, take notes, and follow along. Right now, he wasn’t all too sure what they were looking at except that this particular PAK had faulty motor functions and some issue with it’s processing chips. “So what are your, uhh, thoughts? On this,” Dib tried often to appear as wise and intelligent as Membrane, but instead he always came off awkward, unsure, or crazy. It depended on the circumstances.

“Hmm, well, this Irken certainly would’ve been an unhappy one, terribly anxious and jittery and problem causing. You can see here their processing chip isn’t  _ damaged, _ but it’s data is corrupt. They wouldn't have been able to process their thoughts well enough to respond to situations adequately.” Membrane put two hands on his hips. “I think that’s enough work for you, Dib. Shall we bring up the communications again to find your escort?”

“Sure,” Dib found his bag on the floor near a table. He slung it over his shoulder, sorry for their time to be done. They hadn’t gotten the chance to speak much, and Dib was always eager to please Membrane. Chances to do so rarely arose. The stolen thing in his bag suddenly felt very heavy. Dib glanced aside. “Will Gaz be on Devastis?”

“Oh yes. I’ll join you both just shortly after you arrive. There’s plenty of work we’ll need to begin right away.” 

Dib held his notebooks tight in his hand, gazing up at Membrane who wasn’t even paying him any mind; he was still hunched over the PAK on the table. “Well, I suppose this-”

He jumped at the sound of the double doors behind him swinging open, slamming into either walls.

“IS  _ THE DIB  _ HERE? I AM HIS RIGHTFUL ESCORT HERE TO TAKE HIM TO BE, UH. ESCORTED.” A voice, loud, overcompensating, and…  _ Traumatically familiar _ made Dib freeze, spin to face the entrance to the main lab. In the doorway was a massive shadow and attached to it, a very tiny figure. From so far away, he seemed the size of a bug. Then the Irken drew forward and Dib found he was hardly much taller than one; his antennae were short and his eyes were candy-bright fuschia, the same color as his Invader uniform. His hands were pinned proudly to his hips and he grinned. Dib felt his spooch flutter not in awe, but in terror. He knew this Irken.

“Wait-”

“Ah, here we are,” Membrane announced, suddenly behind him, and he patted Dib twice on the shoulder. “You have all your things, yes?”

“Wait, wait,” Dib shook his head, mouth agape. He couldn’t even speak. This couldn’t be right, there had to have been a mistake. If the Irken ( _ what was his name again? Oh, Irk, I can’t remember- _ ) noticed his look of disbelieving horror, he showed no sign of it. “Wha… This… P-professor Membrane th-this can’t- …. But  _ sir- _ ” Dib was stumbling over his words frantically, turning once then twice to Membrane.

“Yes, yes, my good little assistant, we have already had our goodbyes, haven’t we? Now, please do join our little, uh-”

“Irken Invader Zim,  _ sir,” _ Zim announced. He bowed his head slightly as if humble.  _ Zim.  _ Dread washed over Dib in waves.

“Was that who you were? I never caught the name of who they told me would be-”

“Oh yes, yes it was me,” Zim waved his hand dismissively, his other placed against his chest. His grin was wide and prideful. “I’ve been the Dib’s escort since the start!”

“ _ The  _ Dib?” Dib repeated, glaring. His shock was slowly shoring off to be replaced with frustration. 

“Yes, where is he? I’m afraid our time is short on this planet and we must be off to Devastis very soon.”

“Right here,” Membrane said and before Dib could squirm away, he placed both hands on his shoulders and scooted him forward until he was right in front of Zim. Before him, he found he had at least seven inches on Zim. Dib was stiff and unmoving. He would not go with this Irken anywhere. Never, ever. “Well now, Dib, I have much work to do before the lockdown begins, so please, be on your way-”

“But it can’t be  _ him _ !” Dib cried suddenly and Zim’s wide grin finally melted away. “He- he’s a disaster! Do you know what he did,” his voice lowered to a whisper Zim strained to hear as Dib rushed towards Membrane, arms out, pleading, “he  _ ruined  _ impending Doom  _ one, _ he’ll get me killed!”

“ _ Non- _ sense!” Membrane laughed as he began to return to his work, “Our little friend here was given this mission by the Tallest’s. Truly no  _ Impending Doom One ruiner would _ be given such a vital task!”

“I did not  _ ruin  _ Impending Doom One!” Zim’s voice was shrill, defensive, and Dib whirled on him to glare. “I made it  _ better _ .”

“ _ Better!? _ ” Dib’s voice was high. “You burned down half of our labs! You destroyed half the city, in fact! Do you know how many Irken’s were  _ killed _ !?”

“Oh, killed,  _ shmilled!  _ If it had been such a failure, why would the Tallest’s have sent me here,  _ hmm? _ ” Zim leaned towards him.

“That’s what  _ I’m  _ trying to figure out,”

“Whatever.” Zim crossed his arms. “Now, if you’ll allow me,  _ Dib, _ I am to escort you, and it would seem you are  _ overstaying your Head Scientists welcome,  _ are you not?” If Membrane cared he’d insulted his assistant, he gave no indication. Perhaps he hadn’t heard. Dib turned to see him, perhaps searching for a defense, but it seemed the head scientist had already become enraptured in his work… Dib’s antennae fell just a bit downwards and his shoulders slumped. Once at work, Membrane was usually impossible to bring out of it. He sighed. Zim tapped his foot, impatient. “Any day now,” Dib rolled his eyes, then turned to Membrane.

“Um, farewell, sir! I’ll see you on Devastis!”

“Yes, yes, of course,” Membrane called dismissively from his work table. Distant as always, but what was it Dib even  _ wanted  _ from him? He was an Irken, a solitary life form that was already acting a little out of line by insisting on assisting the same scientist for eight years now. That might have been little time to an Irken but it was still strange. Gaz got away with it because was indifferent, aloof, and bitter. Dib was… Was…

He sighed and turned to face Zim. “Fine. Let’s go. Take me to your stupid ship.” Huffing, Zim whirled and marched forward, stiff and formal, eyes closed. They stepped back into the hall where the big doors to the lab closed behind them. Dib swallowed his irritation away with the promise that he’d see Membrane and be back at work in two days time. If only he’d known, then, what was ahead of them. Still, he drew his bag closer to himself and almost smiled. 

Ahead, Zim cleared his throat. “So, ah, there haven’t been any… Transmission regarding my arrival here?”

“Transmissions?” Dib asked suspiciously. “What do you mean?”

“Oh nothing. Just. News of my coming arrival. You know. Because  _ I’m _ your escort. As ordered by the Tallest’s.” 

“Uh, no? We got the message you were coming to escort me a day ago. Communications are sort of down here, with what a coming battle and all?” Dib glared at his back.

“Ah. I see.” Zim nodded, seemingly pleased with this answer. Dib watched him with narrowed eyes.  _ Does he not remember me? _ He remembered Zim  _ very _ well. In the academy when they were perhaps 80 or so years old. Military weapons research, on this very planet, even. That annoying, grating laughter. An impenetrable ego. He waited for some quip in reference to those years...

Instead, Zim clapped his hands once, rambled on, “Now, as you can imagine, this mission is very important and it is  _ vital _ you do as I order, when I order it. Do you understand? I am your guardian now and without me, you are-”

“You’re just  _ taking me somewhere, _ ” Dib grumbled behind him. “It shouldn’t take any more than two days.” 

“Silence! I am in charge here.” He shouted and Dib recoiled, furrowing his brow. The corridor with it’s dark purple walls and windows into laboratories stretched on for several minutes until they reached a winding, metal staircase. Zim’s boots clacked loudly against the cement. Dib squinted. Was he wearing  _ heels? _

He shook the thought away, said, “The main entrance is  _ that _ way,” he pointed with a thumb behind him. 

“Yes, well, any Invader worth  _ anything  _ would know not to park their ship somewhere so  _ obvious  _ as the front lot. No, my ship awaits somewhere  _ hidden, _ ” Down another staircase and and at a sharp turn, Zim brought them to a hulking metal door that read DO NOT ENTER. HEAD SCIENTISTS ONLY. It’s latch was suspiciously missing, a smoking black mark in its place. Zim pulled the door open with effort. Dib did not offer any help and Zim held it, struggling, gesturing impatiently for Dib to step through.

“You broke in through the  _ employee hangar- _ ”

“Of course I did! It was necessary, for your safety. Now go forward.” Dib groaned, stepping past him as he struggled against the door. Once past, Zim leapt forward, and the door slammed shut behind them both. He clapped his hands together again, brushing the dust away, and marched forward. 

The employee hangar was wide and spacious with a massive metal opening for ships to fly in and out of and quickly reach the atmosphere. Inside the hangar now, it was dark and largely abandoned. Most of the other Irken scientists had already evacuated as instructed by the empire. Within the next three hours, the building would go under total lockdown as soon as the last Irken left it. The entire thing would sink into the planets surface in order to protect the secrets and experiments done here until it was deemed safe again. 

Zim came to an abrupt stop before a space marked for a “HEAD SCIENTIST MEMBRA-”

The rest was covered by his cruiser which had knocked part of the marker over. Dib stood before it, glaring down at the writing in disgust. With one command, the Voots windshield flew up, a little loading dock unfolding before them both.

Zim gestured for Dib to enter, a smug, formal look on his face. Dib stood at the ships loading dock and eyed the pilot's chair, then the small quarters behind  _ that,  _ his fists tightening around his bag strap. 

“ _ This  _ is your ship?” Dib asked. Zim did not catch the disbelief in his voice.

The Invader placed two hands on his hips, grinning. “Yes. A beauty, isn’t it?”

“This is  _ last century’s model.  _ Why on  _ Irk  _ do you have such an  _ old sh- _ ”

“It is vintage, now  _ get inside!”  _ Zim shouted, shoving Dib up at the loading dock where he stumbled, grumbling. He crashed into the pilots seat and scooted as far from Zim as he could as the other climbed in beside him. He was about to open his mouth to protest the small space when a cold metal hand gripped his forearm and he turned his head just in time for something with bright, red eyes to lean up and press against his face, screaming, “INTRUUUDEEER.” 

Dib screamed, falling backwards into Zim who grumbled, shoving him back. Meanwhile, the SIR’s unit weaponry flew up from the metal plate atop his head: plasma guns, laser beams, explosives, anything he seemingly had… Before they reverted into a gentle cyan color and he waved, saying “Hi!” as he caught Zim’s eye.

“Gir! Put all of that away! Do you want to destroy us all?!”

“Yes!” He cried, the weapons all folding in on themselves despite their size, disappearing again into his head.

“ _ That’s _ your SIR unit?!” Dib hissed in a panic, clutching his chest.

“ _ Yes, _ ” Zim said defensively, “what of it?”

“He seems-”

“Perfectly normal! He is perfectly normal, Dib, now,” Zim reached for the safety belt and stretched it over both of them. Dib scowled as he reached over him. “This trip will take a meager two days, but pay attention and perhaps I shall get us there  _ earlier. _ And then Zim shall be free of you-”

“You mean  _ I  _ will be free of  _ you- _ ” 

“No! I do not. Now, keep quiet so I can concentrate.”

Dib crossed his arms tightly over his chest. The other Irken was pressed close beside him. To his left, the SIR unit named Gir was squished, too. It looked up at him with wide, cyan eyes.

“What do you want?” He asked bitterly.

Gir reached into his head and removed from it a squirming, stinking alien-rat. Dib recoiled, grimacing. “Look what I got! He’s my friend!”

“Must we sit so close to each other!” Dib demanded as he shoved back into Zim. He was hunched forward over the dashboard, pressing buttons. The radar on the windshield showed a busy screen, no doubt from the traffic high above them outside the hangar. Dib watched Zim regard it with concentrated, wary eyes. “I mean, did they really give you such a tiny ship to escort me with? And what’s with that?” He pointed to the radar where a single dot, indicting a nearby ship, had been customized with an Irken skull icon to follow it. Zim gritted his teeth in a grimace and hissed, muttering something under his breath.

“It’s nothing! Now quit complaining!” Still, Zim looked tense. Dib felt suddenly very nervous; he’d worked hard in the academy, he’d even  _ been _ on a battlefield before… But that had been a very long time ago. He hadn’t even so much as held a gun in  _ years.  _ He was faintly aware that Planet Nine’s evacuation was due to an  _ emergency.  _ The Resisty were targeting scientists, were stealing weapons, had even kidnapped several Irken’s they’d caught here, and not to mention the recent murders... The military presence on Planet Nine had upped a hundred percent. He was finally beginning to realize just how tense he’d been the past couple of days... He clutched his bag tighter to himself, feeling the precious stolen device within it. It felt hot and obvious, like it could be seen through the purple tinted windshield. 

“Is it a Resisty ship?” he asked cautiously. Zim glared at him in surprise for a moment, scowling… Before he grinned.

“Why? Are you  _ scared,  _ Dib-Thing?”

“No! I was just wondering!” He  _ had _ to recall Dib now. He had to. Dib remembered that shitty nickname.

“Well, do not fret, because I, Zim, am an impossibly fine Invader. We’ll be on Devastis before you know it,” Smug, Zim had the ship started up, and quickly were they in the air, outside of the hangar. Perhaps he didn’t remember him. 

“Aren’t you going to put your communications online?” Dib gestured to the radar where the top of the screen read,  _ OFFLINE.  _ He’d recalled in his military training that every Irken soldier was instructed to have their ship online at all times the ship was running. This ensured the Armada to know the location of every nearby ship during a battle, or at any given moment. In fact, most ships could not even turn their locations off, unless they were Invader cruisers. Even so, this wasn’t just any planet; this was Nine, and there was no reason to be offline, hiding, here.

“Are you  _ mad _ ? And let any possible nearby enemy know our location? No! We are offline, as, ehh, instructed by the Tallest’s. No one is to know of our location.” He waved his hand. “Consider yourself special. A special escort. Yes.” 

_ Ah.  _ Dib felt weirdly flattered. He nodded quite seriously and sat back a bit. Even so close to the Invader he decided he could busy himself watching Nine disappear outside. Zim flew quite fast, zipping expertly by other ships and towards the atmosphere. His eyes kept darting to the radar, until the little ship with the skull disappeared. When it did, he relaxed noticeably... But now, Dib felt restless. He had known about this whole escort ordeal for the past several days, and yet he’d treated it like some sort of vacation. Now he just felt terribly fearful. And of course, Zim’s presence didn't help it.  _ But it will only be two days. Two days and then I’m on Devastis.  _ That wasn’t so long, and if Zim had really forgotten him since the academy, then he could survive this trip.

Dib drew his bag closer. Of course, there were other factors to his anxieties, too. Perhaps it was a good thing Zim left his communications off. Membrane would do a final sweep of the facility and notice that something of vital importance was missing. At least he could not contact them about it later on. Dib would just have to wait for a reaction on Devastis.

Beside him, Gir had begun to grip his right arm, watching the passing scenery with him. He rolled his eyes. 

Perhaps he could survive two days of this…

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BURNING OUT ALREADY. I have... One more chapter fully written. I'm sorry if updates become SUPEr sporadic and random and... Rare. I am very busy with school beginning soon, I've recently gotten a new job and will temporarily be balancing two server jobs at one time. I'm also trying to work on original content for myself. But thank you for reading what you have so far, and for all your kind comments! I really appreciate it and I'll try to keep the fic going! Enjoy! :'-)


	4. Beginnings

Outside of Research Planet Nine, Zim’s eyes kept glued to the radar screen. As soon as he’d gotten far enough away from Conventia he’d gone to work on preparing himself for the endless obstacles he’d unintentionally set himself against. His computer and radar had been fixed to alert him in case of searching military drones and ships, as well as Tenn’s ship itself. With Planet Nine near lockdown and the surrounding area under careful watch, there were plenty of casual military ships and stations in space. No doubt many of them were already on the lookout for a rogue Irken and a scientist’s assistant. He was almost thankful he’d stolen such an easily overlooked ship when he’d left Foodcourtia. 

He tapped his fingers against the control toggles. Even so, things were going smoothly, weren’t they? He’d picked up Dib before Tenn had shown up, before information had reached Planet Nine. Membrane had suspected nothing.

“You’re really tense, you know. Are we really even in any danger yet?” A voice beside him- or rather, a voice nearly pressed up against him- made him start. He jerked to face the Irken to his right.

“Ehh? No! I am not tense, merely concentrating! And if there were any danger I would already have handled it by now,”

“Uh-huh…” The Dib nodded his head slowly. “So, who was that on the radar earlier?”

“Who was  _ who _ on the radar earlier? And who gave  _ you _ permission to gaze upon Zim’s radar,  _ hmm _ ?” 

“There’s nowhere else to look, Zim! Your ship’s too small!” 

Zim nearly rolled his eyes, waving a hand towards Dib, “If it is too small for the likes of you,  _ Dib, _ then you are free to roam the back of the ship! Now quit distracting me!” Dib scowled, huffing. He threw off the safety belt, muttering, before he slid out of the pilots seat, feet striking the ground, Gir watching him go from the arm of the chair. Behind the pilot’s chair, Zim knew around four or so feet of space remained. The walls of the ship had compartments used for storage, and the rest of the hull was made for weapons and the engine. Irken ships allowed no room for luxury.

Zim ignored him, leaning forward in the chair. Gir slid into Dib’s old spot, scooting comfortably closer to Zim. Aside from Gir, he’d never had anyone else in his ship before. And Dib was right; his ship was not meant for more than one passenger. Perhaps Tenn had been given something bigger…  _ Whatever. _ He could make this work, easily. Not like they were too squished. He’d flown in worse situations than this.

“Don’t mess with anything back there,” Zim warned suddenly, glancing once behind himself.

“Whatever,” grumbled Dib. Zim listened to him shuck his bag from his shoulder, place it on the floor before sitting near it. He rummaged through it quietly. 

The Irken whom he was escorting was only a  _ little  _ funny looking. His left antenna was gnarled and short compared to the other; it was pinched in its middle and it tapered off pitifully. His blue goggles were wide and bubble like. He wasn’t wearing scientists robes but rather a black and blue suit beneath it, not unlike what Zim wore beneath his own tunic. The Irken symbol stretched across the chest, sharp and black. Zim did not recognize him from his academy training, although Dib did appear to be around Zim’s own age. He’d read up a little on the Irken from his tablet, although little information existed. He had trained on Planet Research Nine for the majority of his Irken life. His vat number was not even offered, nor his PAK code which identified him in accordance to his time of hatching, his caste, etc. But that didn’t quite matter, and Zim knew he was simply used to having so much information about his fellow Irken’s at any given time. Soldier’s entire histories were available to anyone as a show prowess for what they’d done. Zim knew all there was to know about the Invader’s who had been assigned missions these last two great assignings. He’d done his research and knew most of them personally, anyway. 

So little information existed for the Dib. He was a scientist, not a soldier, and still in training. This wasn’t strange given scientist’s work, while not as glorifying as Invading, was complicated and took more training. Much was to be expected if you were to work directly for the empire, improving their weapons, their ships, their technology.  _ And Head Scientist Membrane researches Defective’s….  _ Talk had been scattered on his home planet if such a cure (if it could be called even that) existed for Defectives. Rare as they were, they were a hindrance to the empire; better to simply be stamped out than bothered with, Zim thought. Oh well.

Behind him, things had gone suspiciously silent. His year spent so far with Gir had taught him that silence equaled brewing trouble. His antennae perked up, searching for movement.

“What are you doing back there?” He called irritably.

“Does it matter?” The Dib asked, equally irritable. He peered around the chair on Gir’s side. “I have work to do, you know. This isn’t some vacation for me.”

“Like what?” Zim asked, both genuinely curious and rudely nosy.

Dib cast a sideways glance. “Nothing. It’s none of your business,”

“Anything happening on  _ Zim’s ship  _ is  _ my buis- _ ”

“It’s just an assignment Scientist Membrane gave me, okay!”

“Oh,” That sounded boring. Zim sat back into his chair.

“I wanna see!” Gir scrambled over the arm and ran behind to join Dib. Zim listened to a struggle as Dib begged Gir not to touch anything and Gir well… It sounded like he was touching  _ everything.  _ Zim muttered something under his breath before turning over in his chair to peer over the top of it. Behind him, Dib’s bag sat open. Within it were tools, notebooks, and tablets, their screens black, waiting to be used. Gir was being held against the wall on the other side of the ship as Dib held him back with two PAK legs. In his hands, he gripped some object wrapped in cloth. Gir squirmed wildly, crying, “I wanna see! Let me see! Let me seeeeeee _ eeeeeeeeeeeee- _ ”

“Gir! Enough! Leave our escort alone! Dib thing! Quit harming my Sir unit!”

“He won’t back off!” Dib growled. Zim climbed over the chair, on the other side of Dib’s Pak legs.

“Gir! Quit squirming!” Upon command, Gir became miraculously limp. Dib’s PAK legs retracted, dropping Gir to the floor who hopped up. “Good Gir, now go-”

His voice was cut off by an alert coming from the front of the ship. His spooch sped up in a panic, antennae flying up in alarm. Zim spun, hopped back into the chair, preparing for the worst… 

The words  _ LOW FUEL  _ blinked in bright red Irken writing. His antennae fell flat against his head. Of all things…

“What is it?” Dib asked from behind him. “What’s wrong?”

“It is nothing!” Zim announced.

“We outta gas!” Gir cried gleefully, pointing to the windshield. “We’re gonna crash!”

“No, we’re not, Gir!” Zim expanded his radar. He could hear Dib moving behind the chair to peer around it again at the windshield, still clutching whatever it was he’d taken out of his bag against his chest. The radar displayed several passing asteroids as well as traffic not a mile or so away. No Invader Tenn nor military ships on duty. Zim kept looking. There were several moons still ahead that circled Planet Nine; they’d yet to fully leave it’s gravitational pull. A little further ahead, however, and Zim saw the smaller planet called  _ Gauld. _ He reached, pressed a finger against the little green planet on the radar. He knew many repair stations existed there. “Computer! Reset our coordinates for planet Gauld!” The computer obeyed. Zim began drumming his fingers against the toggles again, watching the planet approach.

“What are we doing?” The Dib asked beside him. 

“It would seem in my haste to retrieve you, I ran low on fuel,” Zim explained. He felt tense, worried. He wanted this done quickly, quietly, without incident. But of course, this whole thing  _ was _ an incident now. The happenings of earlier were catching up to him, putting themselves in clear, if not jagged perspective in his mind. 

Perhaps this had been some kind of… 

No, this was what he deserved! An important, risky mission! And when he completed it, the Tallest’s would take back all they’d said. Yes. 

“How are you already out of fuel?” Dib asked, squinting at him through his blue goggles, breaking him from his thoughts. Zim’s grip on the controls tightened only slightly, ignoring him.

  
  


Not long later, and they were breaking through the planet’s atmosphere. Beside Dib, Gir was pressing his face to the glass, peering down at the planet below. 

“We won’t spend long here. Once we’re done it’s straight to Devastis. We’ll likely be there before they’re even expecting you,” Zim said with newfound confidence as they drew nearer to the planet’s surface. 

Gauld was a fairly old conquest and an easy one, too; it was small and it’s inhabitants had been primitive, mostly animal. It’s resources were sparse and it was too rocky and volcanic in many places to be used, but where it’s flatlands stretched, it had been populated by rows and rows of repair stations, refueling hubs, and touristy attractions detailing the history of Gauld’s take down, the Tallest who had been in ruling then, and the time it had taken to sweep the planet. Dib watched them land gently on the platform of an empty row of refueling hubs. Zim had actively avoided any crowded areas. 

The windshield flew up as the engine cut off and Zim hopped out. He turned on his heel to face Dib and Gir.

“Gir. You are not to leave this ship. Your job shall be to keep our escort under careful watch. Do not let him leave the ship, either, or touch anything with his icky hands. Understood?”

“You could just tell me, you know,” Dib grumbled.

Gir saluted, eyes shifting red. “Yes, my lord!” He turned, faced Dib and watched him intently. Dib glared back at Zim. 

“I’m not some smeet, I’m not  _ going _ anywhere.” But Zim was already marching aside, towards the equipment they’d landed next to. Dib rolled his eyes and reached onto the floor where he’d left his bag. He lifted it up and began to work.

The air on Gauld was hotter due to an unsual amount of magma pools scattered around on the surface, making up for it’s distant sun. Sitting on the Voot’s pilot chair while Zim had the ship refueled, Dib had the little device in his lap again. He hunched over it with a tool, gently prying away one of it’s sleek, metallic panels. The device was at least five inches in diameter, completely round, like a toy ball. Around it was a band of black metal covered in Vortian text. Other markings covered the device, ones Dib couldn’t read. Since it’s arrival on Planet Nine, Dib had watched as several of the Head Scientists had worked on it, pulling apart it’s secrets. It was a destructive device, a weapon of sorts, that much could be determined. It’s coding and workings were entirely Vortian. This wasn’t so much a problem as much Irken technology had been created either on Vort or with the help of Vortian scientists. But this thing had been a mystery on Nine. Even Membrane had scratched his head over its purpose, although he seemed to give it little thought, considering it useless, Resisty junk.

A shadow came over him, blocking out the sun. He glanced up. Gir was still watching him with a determined stare.

“Hey, can you move aside a bit? You’re blocking out my light,”

“Okay!” His eyes returned to their gentle cyan and he moved aside, still watching Dib with more endearing curiosity than watchfulness, criss-crossing his legs and putting his chin in his hands. He let him watch.

Dib had a wild sort of idea as to what the device was, or at least, what it meant to do. Amongst the scientists, the device had hardly been messed with simply for fear that it would destroy the labs or cause some sort of signal to go out. Thus, his only experience with the thing was over Membrane’s shoulder, and that was hardly enough. He could hardly make inquiries without speaking in places he wasn’t meant to. He was known for being rather vocal about his unwanted theories and understandings of what they did in the research facilities, but he was also eager for Membrane’s approval. He knew when to hold back, at least most of the time. 

The metal plate he had been prying at popped out quite suddenly, and he jolted, scrambling to grab the thin plate before it fell. It was the perfect shape of a square and beneath it, Dib saw within the balls workings, plenty of tiny blinking lights, more Vortian text, and within that…

The Irken Armada symbol. 

Dib hunched forward more, bringing the little device closer to his face to peer at it. It wasn’t strange for Irken technology to appear amongst Resisty weapons. Black markets for alien weaponry existed in the dark corners of space. Try as the empire might to keep a hold on what the Resisty got their hands on, illegal selling of weapons was something even the empire dabbled in. But this wasn’t just any Irken weapon - if that’s what this was. The Massive’s secrets were well kept, known only by a handful of Vortian and Irken scientists, the latter of the two all being accounted for on Moo-Ping Ten, a security planet for prisoners of war and conquest. Those not on Moo-Ping were dead. So how, then, did this device, apparently from or in relation to the Massive get into the hands of Resisty fighters? 

Dib lowered the device and lifted his goggles to rub at his eyes in thought. Perhaps his far-fetched theories of what the device could do (call some deep-space alien terror from far off to destroy Irkens, to perhaps, upon activation, wipe out Irken’s in one fell sweep, the usual conspiracies) had not even been close. Perhaps all it really was was some modified Irken device. Nothing more, nothing less….

“Your eyes look funny!” A high-pitched metallic voice cried out, making Dib jolt- and suddenly realize what he was doing. Dib reached and drew the goggles back on in a panic. Who else had seen? Outside, there was no one, just metal ramps and repair stations stretched as far as the eye could see. Without his goggles, Dib’s eyes were not a deep, starry blue but rather a muddy, golden color. A defection he’d had since he’d been hatched, as well as what had landed him in Membrane’s lab in the first place. “Why you eyes look so funny?” Gir was tilting his head at him, pointing. 

Behind the ship, Zim shouted, “ _ You better not be breaking anything over there, Gir!” _

Dib gritted his teeth. “Uh, it’s- it’s a secret,” he stammered pitifully. He internally flinched; was that really all he could come up with? 

“A secret?” Gir whispered in wonder. Dib nodded quickly.

“Y-yeah! Just between you and I, okay? So don’t tell your master…!”   
  


“Okay!” Gir shouted. Dib almost smiled; at least the SIR unit was too stupid to feel suspicion. But could he even keep a secret..? Irken’s were sort of naturally disgusted by Defectives, although they could blame the Control Brains for that one. Dib did not want to imagine what insults Zim might think up if he knew. His shoulders had wilted a bit… It was just his eyes, really. He wasn’t entirely defective... “What’s this do?” Gir poked at the device once. Dib yanked it up and held it away from him.

“Don’t touch it. It’s very important, and uhh- it’s another secret. Now go away.”

“Does it got  _ games _ ?”

“No, it isn’t toy! Now go  _ away- _ ” Gir reached over him to touch it. Dib angled it further away.

“Stop it-”

“It’s got  _ buttons! _ ” His arm extending, Gir tapped the device, once. On cue, the black band around the device lit up quite suddenly, emitting a high, beeping sound. Dib cried out, surprised, dropping it. It bounced off the chair, rolled down the ramp, and onto the platform the ship had docked on.

Gir rushed after it.

“Wait! No! Don’t touch it!” Dib called, scrambling after him. His boots struck the ramp and thudded heavily on the metal as Gir reached the ball, bent to retrieve, then accidentally kicked it in his excitement. He ran after it again where it fell off the platform, hitting the dirt with a distant thud. Gir hopped off the ramp. “Wait! You’ll mess it up!”

Zim peeked around the corner of his ship, watching them.

“Hey! Wait! Don’t leave the ship!” 

Dib skidded to a stop as he neared the platform's ledge, peering over its side. Gir stared up at him from far below, holding the device over his head. It was still blinking madly around the black band. The beeping intensified. What had he turned on? Was it sending out some signal? Was it about to explode?

“Look! I got it!” Gir called from below. 

“Th-throw it back to me! Quickly!” 

Gir blinked once at him before he held his arms back, preparing to throw it. Dib held out his hands when something yanked the back of his uniform, jerking him away. Zim lifted him up an inch off the ground with a strength it didn’t appear he had in him.

“I told you to remain on the ship!” He yelled. Dib stared at him in surprise; behind him, down below, Gir threw the device once. It flew into the air, straight up, appeared for an instant beside them, then fell again. 

Gir cried out, forlorn, “Ohhh, you missed it.” 

“Zim, let go of me!”

“What does he have?” Zim was peering over the ledge now, brow furrowed in anger. Dib squirmed out of his grasp, stumbling away from him. When Gir threw the device a second time, he caught it, brought it to his chest. It was covered with dust and it’s top had opened up to reveal a little screen blinking with dots on what appeared to be a radar map. He wasn’t sure what the map was of, but one dot in particular seemed to indicate Zim’s ship. A prompt had appeared, in Vortian text, asking something. Dib scrambled to shut the device, not entirely sure how to do even that. Would the prompt disappear? Could he just shut it off again? The lights still blinked, the device still beeped. His spooch was beating wildly within him. He should’ve left it in it’s bag, perhaps when Gir was occupied with something else. Why was Zim’s SIR unit so damn annoying..!? 

The top came down with effort, and Dib heaved a sigh of relief as the device went silent, most of it’s lights going out.

“Don’t touch this thing!” Dib shouted when he turned to look at Gir, who had scaled back up the platform. “Don’t ever touch it again, do you understand?” 

“Yes sir!” He saluted him, looking serious. Dib sighed, gazing down at the device once more. 

“Hey! Don’t salute to him! And you,” Zim glared at Dib, “I didn’t give you permission to give him any orders, either! And what on Irk is that?” He pointed accusingly to the device in Dib’s hands. He gripped it tighter.

“It’s nothing! Tell your stupid robot not to touch my stuff!”

“Don’t call him stupid! Only  _ I _ can do that!” He whirled on the robot. “Gir! Don’t touch things that aren’t yours! Now get back to the ship!” 

Dib peered down at the device in his arms as he stomped back towards the ship. It had stopped blinking- all save for one red light, in the shape of a Vortian letter (or perhaps a very short word?). He sighed. He didn’t like the idea of this thing being on. Behind him, Zim was scolding Gir, shoving him forward to follow Dib. Dib carefully held up the device to get the blinking to stop when one of his fingers brushed another button- and suddenly it gave off a high-pitched, shrill cry. He dropped it instantly, cringing away from the noise. His antennae stood up straight vibrating painfully, and his spine arched. Then, as abruptly as it began, it stopped, and he scrambled to grab it. He spun around.

Zim had two claws clamped over either side of his head. “Are you trying to  _ KILL US?!”  _ He demanded, eyes narrowed, “How much attention are you determined we HAVE on this stupid planet!?”   
  


“I’m sorry- uh, I didn’t expect it to-” A sudden loud clanking noise made him stop. Gir had stiffened, then tilted over. Zim rolled his eyes.

“Gir! Stand up! We need to leave now!” He shouted while Dib rushed quickly back to the ship. As he went, he finally managed to press the right buttons; the device returned to its earlier state. He found the plate he’d earlier pried off on the metal ground and he bent to grab that, too. “Gir! I told you to stand up, now  _ get up! _ ”

Dib was stuffing the device back into his bag when he glanced behind him. Gir was still a little metal pile on the ground, unmoving. That high pitched sound had made him jolt, stiffen, and fall right over. Dib had thought it was a reaction to the sound. He was only a robot but clearly a very emotional one. Zim went forward, nudged him twice with the tip of his boot. He bent over, grabbing the robot beneath his arms, and held him up. Dib could not see it’s face, but he could see Gir’s antennae was dark; he imagined his eyes, chest plate were all dark, too. Zim glared at him for a moment longer before scoffing.

“Stupid thing broke himself again,” he muttered, before tucking Gir beneath his arms.

“He’s, uh- he’s broken?” Dib asked carefully.

“No! He isn’t broken! He’s just- he’s-... He does this sometimes. Fools around, and- it’s none of your business! Now get back into the ship! We’re leaving!” 

Dib crawled into a corner of the pilots chair and gripped his bag to his chest. He glanced at the dashboard. Hadn’t the lights been on earlier, even while Zim was refueling? A creeping suspicion was crawling into him and he was starting to sweat. What had he done? Zim climbed into the pilot's chair and brought the windshield down with a thud. Dib rubbed at his arm; Gir was annoying, but he hand’t intended to hurt the thing… Perhaps it hadn’t even been his fault. Maybe it was just Gir. The sound had been a little scary, yeah, but that didn’t mean the device had been what shut Gir off.

Zim set the robot at his side where it lay, limp and quiet. 

He reached for the dashboard to start the ship up. One attempt and nothing happened. Dib watched Zim act with growing antsiness. 

“ _ Now _ what’s wrong with this stupid, piece of-  _ Computer!”  _ He shouted. No answer. “Computer! Start up the ship!” Still, nothing happened. The ship was silent and dark. Dib felt a shift of annoyance within him; sweet Irk, was this guy serious? How shitty  _ was  _ his ship…!? Zim growled under his breath, tapping at the dashboard, sliding his fingers across screens, mashing buttons. Nothing. The ship was completely inactive. “What  _ is  _ this..!?” He slammed his fist once against the dashboard before turning, suddenly, on Dib. “You! What did you do to my ship!”

“I didn’t do anything!” Dib cried instantly, furrowing his brow at Zim. Although he did have his suspicions…. Gir had just tipped over as soon as that device had emitted that high noise. Perhaps it had had an affect on the ship, too? His anxiety worsened. 

“Lies! You were here,  _ alone, _ with my SIR unit and my SHIP and now neither are working! What did you do?!”

“I told you, I didn’t-” But he was distracted by movement over Zim’s shoulder as the shorter Irken leaned into him. Behind him, far off, were uniformed, searching Irken soldiers. And for reasons Dib couldn’t quite place, he felt they might be looking for  _ them. _

“- nothing but trouble since I got you, you’re lucky I’m so willing to even  _ do  _ this mission if it weren’t for the Tallest’s then you-  _ what  _ are you  _ looking _ at...!?” Zim rambled on, stopping suddenly before he whirled around. He stiffened instantly when his gaze fell upon the soldiers, their voices distant and faint, but still Dib could hear the words “ _ something over here- _ ” and “ _ keep an eye out- _ ”. It hadn’t been long at all since Dib had left the facility but perhaps Membrane had already seen the device was gone..? If he had, he might’ve brought up the communications, sent out word to find him and Zim, bring it back. They’d know Zim’s ship by now, and both of their faces.

Zim’s face had paled. Dib backed away, tearing open his bag again. He dug around and found the device, peering down at it. What had he pressed again? Perhaps he could find a reverse effect..?

Behind him, Zim had grabbed Gir, tucked him under his arm.

“Dib-thing! Come on, we’ll come back!”

“Th-they’re just other Irken’s, aren’t they? What does it matter?” He was turning the device over in his hands, unsure why he was getting so anxious. Zim sounded panicked- but why? Had he seen and heard the device, too? But he didn’t know what it was? So why was he so worried about Irken soldiers…?

“Dib! I command you to  _ come with me right now! _ ” He grabbed his wrist. Dib snatched up his bag just as Zim was yanking him suddenly out of the ship and around it where he crouched.

“ _ How did they find us so quickly..!?”  _ Zim asked in a panicked whisper.

_ “What do you mean? _ ” Dib whispered back. The Invader ignored him. The soldiers had spotted the docked ship and now they were pointing, drawing nearer. Zim was beginning to crawl backwards, his SIR unit pressed tightly against him. 

“ _ Come on!” _ Zim tugged on Dib’s wrist again. “ _ We’ll come back!” _

_ “But-” _

_ “Just come on, you insolent smeet!!” _ Zim hissed, and yanked Dib forward where he hopped off of the platform, landing silently on to the dirt. Ahead, amongst the repair stations, was an array of shops and a small marketplace; Dib could just barely hear the business of it from here. Clutching his bag, he allowed Zim to haul him away from his dead ship.

  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i was drained from writing this morning and had planned on not working on anything today BUT someone's comment made me so happy, I was like, youre so RIGHT i can totally work on this fic right NOW! But now I have to go to work rip in pieces........ Anyway, please enjoy this update! i'll be working on the next few chapters tonight when I get home!!! I have a lot of exciting scenes planned for this so, fingers crossed!!!!!! :-)

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is my first real long fic. Funny that it happens to Invader Zim.  
> I started this fic months ago, but I sorta dropped it and now I'm sorta kinda revisiting it. I'd like to add that, I *want* to make it ZaDr but am currently unsure if I could follow through with that. Anyway!  
> While I have at least four chapters written for this already, and a good idea as to where the story's going (sorta), I would super appreciate some feedback as to how it sounds thus far. Like, how interested is anyone in this idea/chapter so far? Is it too tragic if Gir doesn't have his dog suit?
> 
> I'll post the second chapter soon. 
> 
> Please let me know in the comments! Thanks so much as always for reading! :-)


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